


Racing After You

by boat_shoes



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: And they're all idiots, F/F, Growing Up, Hiroshi Sato being a 'good' parent, Kid Fic, Korra's not the Avatar, Learning to Bend, Pro-Bending, Republic City, car racing, lots of angsty car scenes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24344269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boat_shoes/pseuds/boat_shoes
Summary: Asami is beautiful. She drives fast cars. She gets everything she wants at the expense of others -- including the empty lot Korra has been using to practice water bending.
Relationships: Korra & Bolin, Korra & Mako (Avatar), Korra & Original Characters, Korra/Asami Sato, Mako/Asami Sato
Comments: 7
Kudos: 53





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is a bit like a prologue. I haven't actually gotten into the plot yet. This is kind of just a short blurb of exposition.

Republic City was hot, and sticky, and everything smelled vaguely of grilled meat. They’d spent the day traipsing through the streets, deafened by the sound of satomobiles whizzing past, suffocated by the ridiculous amount of people crowded onto the sidewalks. Korra loved every bit of it. She loved it in a way she couldn’t describe. Because she loved her parents. She loved steamed rice with alligator-eel. She loved penguin sledding. But her love for Republic City was different. It was unexpected and inextricably fierce.

“Mom!” she called. “Can we go see the Aang statue?” she bounced towards her mother, who had begun talking to a pretty, tall woman who was smiling brightly at both of them. 

Senna ignored her daughter. Even as Korra pressed up against her side, she kept talking. “My husband is leader of the Southern tribe. He’s here to talk to the President about trading--”

“Please?” Korra singsonged, clenching her fingers in her mother’s dress and tugging. Her head only reached Senna’s waist, so she had to work to be on eye level. “It’s so cool. And I’ll do all my chores. And-”

Her mom placed a hand on Korra’s head. “Later, sweetheart. Your father’s in an important meeting and he’ll be out soon. Then we have to go home.” she looked back up at the pretty lady. “This is my daughter, Korra.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Korra.” she placed a hand over her chest and tilted her head down to examine Korra. “My name is Yasuko. I have a little girl about your age as well. She’s getting her teeth checked by a waterbender right now.”

Korra perked up. “I’m a waterbender!”

Senna stroked a hand through her hair, adoringly. “Not yet.”

Korra, annoyed, pushed her fingers away. “Yes I am! And if we had water nearby…” she glanced around.

“I believe you,” Yasuko said, interrupting her search but looking amused rather than annoyed. “We can do a demonstration later. Do you want to be a healer, then?”

Korra wrinkled her nose at the prospect. “Definitely not.”

Her mom smiled wryly. “Korra wants to be a pro bender.” 

Yasuko’s eyes widened. “Oh, I see. Well then Republic City’s the place to go. Have you ever seen a match?”

“Not yet,” Korra said, excitedly. “But I listen to the games on radio and I’m getting training from really good benders like my dad.”

Senna poked at her. “And mom.”

“But you’re a healer!”

“And it’s important,” said Senna chidingly. “To learn both healing and fighting. Otherwise, what will you do after the fight, with all those scrapes and bruises?”

Yasuko patiently watched the exchange. “Well,” she began while Korra was still contemplating her retort. “If you come back to Republic City, visit the Sato manor. Asami and you would be great friends, I’m sure. I’ve got to get her from her appointment now,” she added, glancing down at her time piece. “But please, keep in touch.”

She nodded her head and turned back, slipping through the door to a tall office building, smushed between two larger office buildings. 

The rest of the day, after picking up her dad, was spent travelling back to their village. She didn’t get to explore the city anymore, but they did stop at a tourist stand and Senna let her pick out any pro bender patch that she wanted.

On the ride home she fell asleep with her cheek pressed into her dad’s shoulder, and the patch secured firmly over her heart.

She didn’t go back to Republic City for years, and when she did, it was on a fieldtrip with a few other kids from the village and their teacher.

They were being taken to the biggest museum of waterbending history in the world. Korra was buzzing with excitement. The building was huge. She could see the stone detailing clearly, even from two blocks away.

When they were standing outside the doors, their teacher, Mavea, held up a hand, signalling them to stop their march. Korra was distracted though by the gathered vendors of food and merchandise all around the museum. She didn’t see everyone stopping and as a result, stumbled into the girl in front of her.

Mavea glared. “Alright, everyone. Just as you have been on the street, you must be careful and respectful inside the museum. I’m going to partner you up. You must watch your partner. Don’t let them leave your sight while we’re inside. Okay?”

Korra was watching a man selling moon peaches.

“Korra?”

She startled and glanced back at her teacher. “Yeah, yeah. Careful, respectful, partners. Got it.”

There was a chorus of giggles from the kids around her.

Mavea’s eyes narrowed, even as she began calling out names. Korra got stuck with Tanto, a quiet boy who she didn’t know very well. Just as well. If he didn’t speak, she could do all the talking and tell him about the exhibits. 

After everyone was partnered up, the group re-positioned into two less-than-neat rows.

“Don’t touch anything,” Mavea warned as they walked through the big oak doors and were immersed in sound.

There was water all around them -- big sheets of it streaming down each wall into basins in the floor. The front desk was surrounded by rivulets, flowing through and around the mosaic patterned tiles.

Mavea checked them in quickly, passed out maps to everyone with a curt, “You won’t need to use these”, and stalked up the first flight of stairs.

The first exhibit was this huge painting covered with images of the tide pulling out along with the different stages of the moon. “This piece is from over two thousand years ago,” Mavea drawled. This earned her a few surprised gasps, but Korra just crossed her arms. Their teacher flicked her wrist at the huge lion turtle taking up half the painting. “Lion turtles were a symbol throughout most primitive art exploration.”

“Are lion turtles extinct?” Korra asked. “Why don’t we see them anymore?”

“No one really knows.”

Korra raised an exaggerated eyebrow. “All that research and--”

“And we have a whole museum to look at. Follow me. Come along. Jie, take your shirt out of your mouth,” she snapped.

The rest of the tour followed suit. They stopped and awed over relics while Korra buzzed with questions and inappropriately loud comments.

Tanto didn’t speak until they were halfway through the fourth floor and Korra was beginning to lose steam.

“You’re a waterbender, right?” he asked shyly.

He was still walking next to her, his shoulders hunched and his hands shoved into his pockets.

She looked around, checking that their teacher wasn’t looking. They weren’t supposed to bend during class hours and at the beginning of the trip she had reminded them of this explicitly and repetitively. When Korra was sure no one was looking, she flicked her wrist and water streamed from the bottle hung at her waist, circling her fingers.

Tanto’s eyes widened, glancing nervously up at Mavea then back to the floating water. “Wow,” he breathed. “My family and I are all non benders.”

“Huh. But you’ve seen bending…?” she said, letting the water fall back into its container.

“Of course,” he laughed, awkwardly. “Just, not regularly.”

Korra thought this over for a moment. Bending was such a large part of her own life. She found that she’d just assumed it was the same for everyone. “What about bending used in fighting?” she said suddenly.

He shook his head and she felt her face alight with a grin.

“Me neither. I’ve always wanted to though.” she felt her face morph with that expression that usually predicted trouble and repercussions. “Do you want to?”

He gazed at her with wide eyes, nodding vigorously.

Korra snagged his hand. They were at the back of the group so it was easy to slip out while everyone was focused on a tapestry.

She started running as soon as she reached the hall and Tanto followed, laughing with slight hysteria.

“Race you to the street!” she called, catching looks from several analytic passerby. The two of them scrambled down the stairs. Korra took them two at a time and Tanto half-fell after her, grabbing at her sleeves every time they found a landing.

The woman at the front desk had her face buried in a slim book so she barely looked up as the two of them slid back out the door. “Have a lovely night,” she called.

“You as well!” Korra chorused.

Tanto shivered bodily as they hit the outside air. Korra hit him in the shoulder. “Baby.”

“It’s night time,” he defended.

“Yeah,” she glanced around. While they’d been in the museum, shadows had crept into all the city’s corners and begun to spread. Satomobiles whizzed past, undoubtedly holding passengers excited to get home for dinner. “Guess it is. That’s a good thing. The pro bending stadium has games at night.” 

She grabbed him by the wrist again and pulled.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he squeaked. “We don’t even know where it is.”

But his words fell empty as Korra had just spotted a dumpling stand and was bolting towards it. She could hear him dragging his boots against concrete behind her.

“Can we get ten seaweed buns,” she piped eagerly to the storeman, gripping her hands onto the aluminum side of the food cart.

He raised an eyebrow. “Do you have money?”

“Well…” she sifted through her pockets, and grinned when her fingers found the handful of coins her parents had bestowed upon her before she left. She dumped them on the counter. “There.”

“I’ll be happy to serve you then,” he said in a monotone. “After I serve the customer who was here first.”

The… what? She glanced around and sure enough a small girl with stark pale skin stood behind her, looking slightly frazzled. Tanto had finally caught up to her and was now hovering behind her, like he was using Korra as a shield from the strange other girl.

“Are you kids together?” the man asked, the idea occurring to him as his eyes flicked between each customer, noticing for the first time that none of them were old enough to be out without their parents in Republic City. 

“No,” Korra said. Frowning at the other girl, she took a step back. “Go ahead.”

“Thanks,” she said serenely, her dark hair bobbing around her shoulders as she walked to the counter in Korra’s place and took the paper bag the man was offering her. It was relatively big which implied she was getting food for multiple people.

By the time Korra was done paying for her own food, the girl was halfway down the block, but an idea was forming in Korra’s head. When she finally grabbed her own bag with shaking fingers, she was buzzing with anticipation.

“Where are you going now?” Tanto complained, even as he jogged after her.

“I’m gonna ask that girl if she knows where the stadium is. She obviously lives here, otherwise she wouldn’t be wandering around by herself.”

“We’re wandering around by ourselves,” he pointed out.

Korra rolled her eyes. “That’s--” she cut herself off mid-sentence, holding out an arm to stop Tanto short.

A man was staggering towards them. He was official looking -- wearing a navy tie and suit jacket. His receding hairline gave way to a broad forehead and symmetrical cheekbones. He was approaching them with swaying, self-confident steps. “Are you kids lost?” he asked. His voice was lilting yet gruff, and it slurred on the last syllables.

“No, actually.” Korra said, puffing up her chest and placing her hands on her waist like she’d seen her father do to look more intimidating.

Tanto frowned. “But-”

She resisted the urge to slap a hand over his mouth. Instead she just interrupted him, “No, no. I just remembered where it is, actually. Thank you, though,” she said to the man.

“Hey,” he said, eyes narrowing as Korra started to duck around him, and he changed positions to block her path. “You two shouldn’t be out here by yourselves. This is a dangerous neighborhood.”

Tanto scratched distractedly at his face. “It doesn’t look all that scary.” his voice was shaking from his shivering though. 

“Why don’t you come back to my house and we can get you warm and call your parents?”

Korra felt trepidation, warm in her throat. She’d never wished to see Mavea before now. “That’s alright,” she squeaked, taking a few steps back.

His hand moved too quickly for her to dodge and suddenly his fingers were clenched painfully around her wrist. She could feel nerves breaking under his grip.

But even as he was pulling her towards him, something flashed out of the corner of her eye. As suddenly as he was on her, he was off, toppling backwards onto the concrete -- crying out as he hit the ground.

“Run,” a voice whispered, close to her ear, and she was running, almost automatically towards the nearest street light.

She could hear two sets of pounding footsteps behind her and she prayed that they were friendly.

Once she reached the light, panting from exertion, she rounded on their hero. Her determined expression gave way to shock though, as the dim yellow light illuminated them.

Tanto was leaning back against the wall, cheeks flushed. And the girl from before was standing by the pole. Her arms hung loose at her sides. Her hair was in perfect brown waves framing her face. “Are you okay?” she asked.

Korra furrowed her brow. “What did you do?”

She shrugged. “My dad’s teaching me self defense. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“You’ve got that right,” she said, suddenly embarrassed by the way she’d reacted. She’d completely frozen. She’d known the second he’d opened his mouth where the interaction was going, but she’d been unable to fight back -- unable to stand up for herself. “I could have handled it.”

The girl frowned. “I was just trying to help. Sorry if--”

Korra thrust her bag of seaweed buns at the girl. “Take these.”

“What…?” she sounded genuinely confused now, but she took the bag anyway.

Korra turned. “Tanto, we’re going.”

“Okay,” Tanto said around yawn. He looked back at the girl as Korra waved at him to follow her. “Thank you!”

She held up a hand hesitantly. “Of course.”

Korra stuck her tongue out, grabbed Tanto, and stomped back towards the museum. 

“Why are your cheeks so red?” Tanto asked, as she pulled him back into the lobby.

“What? No they’re not. Shut up!” 

She desperately hoped she never saw the girl again. She’d probably never be able to leave her house again for embarrassment.


	2. In memoriam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The exposition for this fic continues to be way longer than I intended, but yay, Korra and Asami officially meet. Kinda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry I still haven't gotten into the actual plot (sighs). I'm trying, I promise. But I feel like this chapter is a bit more progressive at least.

Senna had gotten the letter a week ago, relatively last minute; and now, Korra was being dressed all in black, told to act appropriately, and rushed through the city.

“We don’t know this lady. Why are we going to her memorial?” she grumbled. The lace dress she was wearing was scratchy around her throat and wrists.

“You met her, remember? You were six, I believe. She died that year. It’s the anniversary and her husband wanted to have a second memoriam service. It’s the first I’m hearing of it.” Senna reached down and tied the bow around Korra’s waist. She was thirteen now. She and her mom were almost the same height but she despised those inches. 

“How did you know her?”

“We became friends that day -- you might not remember. We met in the city and exchanged letters for months. When I stopped receiving them, I assumed it was for some other reason. Mr. Sato explained that he found the letters I’d sent to her and felt badly I’d never heard of her passing.”

Korra stared up at the mansion. “But… is this really where they live?” she scrunched up her nose. “Or do they just rent this place to show off to people?”

Senna chuckled. “Come on. We’re gonna be late.”

The front gardens were expansive and terrifying. Korra felt shrunken next to the hedges. Each was dotted with unproportionally minute, purple flowers. Once they rounded the steps, they passed a pool, an archery range, and a fountain. She was so busy awing over each immaculate detail, she missed a step and stepped straight into a bed of flowers.

“Korra, watch where you’re going!” Senna reached for her but she was too slow.

Korra was already stumbling over a row of freshly planted primroses. She landed flat on her face.

“Hey, need help?” a new voice said.

She turned her head, blinking dirt out of her eyelashes. A familiar face was staring back at her, holding out a hand. “Uhm,” she spluttered. She pushed herself up on her own and quickly brushed herself off. 

Senna glanced between them with a smile. “You girls introduce yourselves. I just saw someone I know.” then she was sauntering off towards the front deck, leaving Korra very, very alone.

She gazed falteringly at the girl. She’d aged, filling out her shoulders and legs. Her hair was longer too, flowing just past her shoulders in neat waves. But she was still definitely the same kid who’d essentially judo-flipped that creep outside the museum. 

Korra looked down at her black, dirt-smeared dress, suddenly self conscious. “What are you doing here?”

The girl’s soft features melted into a frown. “I’m sorry. Am I not allowed at my mother’s memorial service?”

Korra felt her eyes widening and lips parting slightly. “Oh, I-” her cheeks filled with heat and her breath caught uncomfortably in her throat. “I was just surprised to see… someone I knew.” she finished, anticlimactically.

The girl raised a perturbed eyebrow. “And do we know each other? I’m Asami Sato,” she wiggled her still-outstretched hand. She was wearing gloves, leather gloves -- a strange choice for a memorial, but also… really cool. 

Korra shook her hand, finding herself again. “Korra. Sorry for…” she didn’t really know what she was apologizing for. A lot of things probably, she considered, as she glanced back down at the crushed flower bed.

“I should get back,” Asami said. She wasn’t frowning anymore. She was almost smiling, actually, though Korra had no idea why. Did she have something on her face? Oh god, she probably looked ridiculous. “Nice to meet you though, Korra.”

Asami nodded slightly, before waltzing back up the steps of her massive house and through a set of imposing double doors. 

Korra looked around for her mother and found her chatting with a pair of older ladies. As she didn’t want to get caught between that, she followed Asami inside at a more reserved pace, trying to be as inconspicuous and non-stalker-ish as possible. 

The entrance hall was set for guests. End tables, lining the hallway, were piled with lush bouquets of violets and decadent platters of finger food.

Men and women -- dressed all in black -- surrounded her, holding champagne flutes like weapons as they exchanged sentimental words.

Three clangs of metal against glass stopped conversations short. A slightly shorter man, with smooth brown hair and a large mustache was standing at the head of the room. “I would like to give a toast to everyone here for coming. I know it’s been years since Yasuko’s passing, but she brought so many people together throughout her life. And I believe that today, just being together is an homage to her memory. Here’s to you,” he took a sip of his drink and the room followed suit.

Korra tucked her hair behind her ear, glancing around the tables for a liquid, but it was already over. And she was being swept away by her mother to be introduced to new ‘friends’. She’d never felt more out of place. Her dress, sticky with sweat, felt like wet cardboard clinging to her skin.

The event finished with a dinner. Everyone was seated at cylindrical tables topped with every food imaginable. None of them seemed remotely edible to Korra, except for the noodles which were coincidentally completely out of reach. Every time she tried to get at them, the older lady sitting next to her tossed her such a dirty look that Korra feared slightly for her own life.

The worst part was that Asami was sitting at her table, though much further down it. Korra kept sneaking glances at her and when they accidentally caught eyes, she swallowed wrong and started coughing. The second time it happened, Senna leaned over and asked if she was feeling alright.

Asami’s presence also meant that she could hear the conversation Mr. Sato was having with the people seated across from them.

“My daughter is excellent at racing actually.”

“But isn’t she a bit young?”

Mr. Sato leaned back consideringly. “I always sit in the Satomobile with her to watch her speed, but she’s quite responsible. She takes after her mother.”

“Would Yasuko have let her race, though?”

“It’s harmless,” he said, waving a hand, there was an edge in his voice though, behind the facade of cheer.

Asami was staring down at her food, picking at it with her fork.

“Since her mother died she’s been obsessed with the things. I figure it’s a healthy enough coping mechanism. The machines are perfectly safe if they’re placed on a track. Driving helps your depth perception and learning the skill from a young age just makes you a better racer. Actually, I’ve been developing a new line that would be an excellent investment for the company. They’re easy to drive, safe, and the acceleration is only matched by the stamina for quality. If Asami can drive it, anyone can.”

Korra was shooting to her feet before she knew what she was doing. “You shouldn’t use your daughter as a marketing technique,” she blurted thoughtlessly. Her hands were in fists, her cheeks were flushed, and every set of eyes in the room was on her. When she’d gotten up, her knee had bumped the table and a display of cabbage had tipped over, spilling greenery across the tablecloth. 

The woman who’d glared at her before at the mere prospect of rudeness, now looked completely aghast. That expression was almost worth Korra’s complete mortification. 

“Korra…” Senna said, reaching for her hand.

Korra yanked it away. She couldn’t stay in this room. She began walking and then running towards the door. 

She didn’t stop moving until she was far into the garden, far away from the people. She could hear her mother calling out for her, so she dodged off the path and buried herself amongst the daisies.

It was half an hour after the yelling stopped that she finally gathered herself up and wandered back up the path.

But when she reached the empty courtyard again, she came face to face with Asami, sitting on the steps with her fingers clenched under her chin. 

“Oh, Asami -- or, Ms. Sato,” she started, taking a few steps back. Korra was suddenly over-conscious of her appearance. She probably looked completely disheveled. She’d taken off her tiny black flats so the feet of her tights were dirtying themselves on the concrete. The bow around her waist was untied and hanging loose in long ribbons.

Asami’s eyes were wide, examining. She stood up and patted down the steps. Korra noticed for the first time that her cheeks were blotched with red like she’d been crying.

“Are you okay?” she asked, voice as delicate as it could be.

“Yes, yeah.” she rubbed at her eyes and smiled. “Do you want to go somewhere?”

Korra looked between her and the closed doors, leading into a room full of suits and stilted conversation. “Where?”

Asami’s smile became a grin and suddenly Korra found herself following the taller girl through a maze of plants and statuettes. 

They passed sandbeds dotted with succulents, rows of multi-colored hydrangeas, a fence climbing with roses and honeysuckle. The scent of pollen hung sickeningly sweet in the air.

“Here,” Asami said. Her voice broke the silence for the first time since leaving the courtyard and it was like breaking Korra from a spell. They’d reached a wall of neatly manicured juniper bush at the edge of the garden. She nodded towards a place in the leaves that had been hollowed out slightly, so you could see light coming through from the other side. Then she ducked down and slid herself through the bush.

Korra didn’t stop to think before crawling through straight after her.

They were on a racetrack, a long circular road, etched with tire marks. 

“This is where you drive?” Korra was staring at Asami, trying to understand the dichotomy between the delicate, fair-skinned girl in front of her, and the image of her in a satomobile, leaning on the acceleration. 

“Well, yeah. Don’t look so shocked. You were listening to my dad in there. It’s ‘perfectly safe’.”

Korra shook her head. “No, no. I just think it’s awesome.” she said, stepping out onto the track, enjoying the transition from rocks to pavement on her feet. “And you get to drive here whenever you want?”

Asami smiled. “No. Dad was telling the truth. He only lets me drive when he’s in the car. But, I get to come out here whenever I want.” she plopped down on the race track next to Korra, her own black dress folding neatly under her legs.

Korra sat down as well, then, feeling more comfortable, she threw her head back so she was lying down across the track. “I have a polar bear dog, Naga. She’s still a bit young to ride but because I’m small, she can carry my weight. I’ve never driven a satomobile before. What’s it like?”

Asami didn’t answer and for a second Korra thought she’d overstepped. “You know the feeling of jumping in a pool on a really hot day? It’s kinda like that. You’re so stressed, so sad. You’re too busy thinking about everything to think about nothing. And then you get in the driver’s seat and slam your foot on the acceleration, and suddenly everything just melts away.”

“I’ve never really gone swimming in that way. But I get it, I think. Waterbending is kind of like that for me. When I bend, I have to focus on what I’m trying to achieve. It becomes about me and the water, instead of me and all my problems.”

Both of them fell silent after that, and the air between them was like static as Korra waited for a response. Usually she just filled the quiet with something inconsequential, but this didn’t feel like that kind of conversation. 

Finally, Asami let out a sigh and leaned back, joining Korra on the pavement. 

“Why did you say what you said in there? About my father.”

Korra shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t like how he was talking about you.”

“But it wasn’t your place,” Asami reminded her. “You don’t know me.”

“I kinda do. I mean, you’re super cool. And, you…” she didn’t wanna talk about the day at the museum, even though she knew she should. It was still humiliating.

“What?”

“You beat up that guy years ago. Even though you didn’t have to. And even though I could’ve handled it.”

Asami lifted her head up to stare at Korra, mouth slightly agape, but a second later her head was falling back down and she was laughing. “Oh, really? And how exactly were you ‘handling’ it?”

Korra clenched her fists and sat up, eyebrow twitching. “I’ll have you know, I am an excellent waterbender. And I’m going to be a pro bender some day.”

Asami hopped to her feet. “Prove it. Right here, right now.”

“What? But--”

“But what? I’m a nonbender? You don’t have water? There’s a lot more to fighting than splashing your opponent. Come on, if you really want to do this professionally some day, you should be able to knock me down.”

Korra couldn’t just turn down a challenge like that. She was on her feet and squaring up to Asami in seconds. They were both still wearing dresses. Asami looked much more put together. Her black taffeta wasn’t torn like Korra’s and she was still wearing shoes -- as well as those infuriating leather gloves.

Asami got into position, held up her hands, and smirked. “What are you waiting for?”

Korra lunged at her.

They started out dealing soft blows, nervous to actually hurt each other, but things got dirty the second Asami pushed Korra down.

It was all messy wrestling and undirected kicks. There was no finesse, no rules. They scratched, hit, pushed, and by the end of it they were lying in a mess of tangled limbs on the track.

Asami started laughing first, the sound coming out of her in surprised gasps. Korra joined in a second later because she couldn’t help it. The sound was contagious. “I can’t believe,” Asami choked. “You want to be a pro bender.”

“Hey.” Korra shoved at her, still giggling. “Don’t test fate. It’s gonna happen.”

By the time the memorial ended, they had extracted themselves from the track and were back outside of the manor.

Senna found her as she was leaving. “Look at you,” she said, brushing Korra off. “This was your only good dress.”

As they were walking away, Korra turned back to wave, but Asami was talking to her father.

-

The next time Korra returned to Republic City, she was sixteen and absolutely obsessed with pro bending. 

“Do you have everything?” Senna said, running her hands down Korra’s arms almost subconsciously. “Money? Overnight clothes?”

“Yeah. I know how to pack, mom.” she said, wriggling away.

“And you know how to get there?”

“Dad took me along the route a week ago to check for snow drifts.” It had taken hours and by the end of it her arms had been sore from holding Naga’s reins, but she’d glimpsed Republic City in the distance -- its lights brighter than anything she’d ever seen.

“Okay,” her mom breathed. “I’m counting on you to be careful. Don’t hurt this,” she said, tapping Korra’s nose chidingly.

“I’ll try.” she grinned.

Tonraq came in just as she was leaving the stable. His cheeks were flushed and nose running from the cold. “Were you really going to leave before I got back?”

The truth was, Korra had been waiting for hours for him to return from hunting. But, she’d been shaking with nervous energy since this morning and couldn’t wait any longer. “I figured I’d run into you on my way out.”

“Liar,” he grumbled. He closed the space between them and wrapped her in a bone-crushing hug. “Be careful out there. If you get hypothermia before reaching the city, I swear…”

She laughed. “You’re both paranoid. I’ve got to go.” she pushed at his arms until he hesitantly let go and jogged out the door before they could convince her to stay. “I should get there before dark.”

“You sure you don’t want to leave another day?” Tonraq called after her.

“This is another day,” she replied, already throwing one leg over Naga and settling into the familiar bumps of her spine. “Love you! I promise I’ll write!” she yelled over her shoulder, even as they were bounding down a hill and towards the border of the city. “I’ll come visit soon!”

She peered back over her shoulder for as long as she could before Naga started slowing down and she had to focus on directing her. 

It was a few hours to Republic City, but she found a sort of comfort in the fact this was the only time for a while that she’d have to make the trip. 

Naga was tired and panting when they reached the streets. “We’ll get to the room soon, girl,” she said, patting her side.

She kept to the backstreets because she knew polar bear dogs probably weren’t appreciated amongst the rapid traffic, but she couldn’t help taking it slow, peering around at the people and shops. 

Her destination was the pro bending arena. She planned on spending the night in the hotel next door and trying to get a job as soon as morning hit. She knew it would probably be easier said than done, but she couldn’t help feeling hopeful.

That night, after checking into the hotel with a polite young earth bender, she took Naga to the room and dropped her off.

At first Naga just flopped out on the bed, content to finally be rid of her saddle, but she sat up anxiously the second Korra headed for the door. “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

Naga growled, lightly, clearly not content with this answer, and started for the door after Korra.

“You can hear the sounds from the arena,” Korra protested. “There’s a show going on and I don’t know when the next one is.”

Naga’s face relaxed when Korra opened the hotel room door and she began to whine.

“Half an hour,” she promised as she shut the door behind her. Then she was running down the hall, a smile creeping across her features. She’d never seen a pro bending show live. She didn’t know if she’d be able to today, either, but she had to try.

She bounded down the stairs, through the lobby and out into the warm Summer air. The hot day still lingered around her, even though the sun had fallen. She deeply regretted wearing her fur boots, but didn’t have a cooler pair to change into.

It was a short walk to the arena, but it seemed longer. Sore legs and anticipation weren’t a good mix. 

The front doors of the arena were large and framed in metal. Everything about the building was theatrical, from its golden rooftops, to the spotlights shining aimlessly into the blank night sky. It was big and flashy in all the ways her village was not. 

There was a gathered crowd outside on the path -- three men, two of them closer to her own age.

“You’re welcome to still play here if you can get me the cash, but I can’t extend your rent any longer than I already have.” the older man was saying. He had a way of holding himself that drew attention to his words rather than his appearance. His tone was gruff, but compelling, in the way of a salesman or a politician. “I’m sorry.” he said, not sounding the least bit apologetic, before turning back into the building.

The two boys stared after him. One of them looked sad, the other angry.

The sad one forced a neutral expression onto his face and turned to his companion. “Hey, look on the bright side,” he held up his empty hands. “No obligations. We don’t have to pay rent anymore!”

Angry one, face-palmed. “We don’t have to pay rent anymore because we don’t have a place to live, Bo.” 

Korra took a few steps forward, hesitantly. “Hey. I’m new to the city, but I’ve got a hotel room next door if you want to stay there tonight.”

Angry one narrowed his eyebrows and opened his mouth to say something, but the other boy interrupted, “That would be awesome! As long as you’re not a serial killer or something, and you don’t look like a serial killer. You look really cool actually, like a waterbender. Are you a waterbender?”

Korra laughed. “Yeah. I just moved here. I don’t have a place to live yet either though. But you’re welcome to my room as long as you don’t mind polar bear dogs.”

“No,” the other guy said, definitively. He stepped in front of his friend -- brother? They looked similar -- and glared at her. “Thanks, but we don’t need your help.”

“Yeah, Mako. We kind of do,” the first guy argued. “Not that your judgement isn’t impeccable and all that, but… I want a bed.”

“Listen to the man, grumpy,” Korra said, crossing her arms to mimic Mr. Cool -- or ‘Mako’, apparently. “Judging by your frown, you could use some beauty rest.”

“Oh my god, you have no idea how right you are.”

Mako scowled at both of them. “Fine. But we’re leaving first thing in the morning,” he said, brushing past her.

“Wow,” Korra breathed. “Is that how you show gratitude? Cause I’m honored.”

Mako’s brother let out a laugh. “That’s how he expresses every emotion. I promise it’s not personal.” he held out a hand. “I’m Bolin, by the way.”

“Korra,” she said, still staring after Mako. “Was there a pro bending show tonight?”

His eyes widened. “Oh! Were you going to go to that. It ended a few minutes before we came out here. Mako probably thought you recognized us from the shows and was just a fangirl vying for our attention.” he wiggled his eyebrows. 

“Wait,” Korra said, jaw dropping. “You’re pro benders?”

“Were, pro benders,” he corrected with a wry smile. “Just got the boot. We can’t pay for the season, or for our rent.”

“I came to the city to pursue pro bending,” she explained as they began to walk. “But, if there are no teams that need players… I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Bolin looked thoughtful for a moment. “Our team just disbanded, probably permanently since our teammate moved on after we got kicked out. All the other teams are pretty comfortable. But… you know, you’re a waterbender. I’m an earthbender and Mako does fire,” he was full on grinning at this point. “We could be a team.”

Korra clapped her hands together. “Really? That would be so cool, like so, so cool. How?”

“Well we’ve gotta ask Mako. We should wait till morning to do that. He’s always in a bad mood, but more now than usual. And also we’re broke, so… that’s an issue. The cost to play is kinda steep.”

Korra’s smile dampened. “Oh. Yeah, same here. I’ve got a bit of money from my parents to pay for the hotel and food, but…”

“So, we won’t play in the arena,” Bolin said, still sounding hopeful. “But there’s gotta be somewhere else in the city where we can make bank by bending. The arena is for the official events but there are other places.”

“Like skeezy bars and back allies?” Korra suggested, half-seriously.

“Yeah. I mean, maybe?” he put a finger on his lips thoughtfully. “Mako definitely won’t be on board with that.”

Korra sighed, shoved her hands in her pockets, and kicked the ground with the point of her boot. “We were so close there for a second.”

“Eh,” Bolin laughed. “I feel a helluva lot closer than I was ten minutes ago.”

Korra glanced up at him, smiling, then turned her head to the sky, which was eternally clouded with light pollution. “Yeah. Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for bearing with me! In the next chapter we'll actually get to the premise of the story. Yay. <3


	3. Tire tracks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More anger issues and failed communication. This time, with Bolin and Mako too !! I love them all so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while since I've updated this. I was feeling unmotivated tm. Hope you're all being safe and social distancing! Thank you for all the lovely comments. <3

Korra woke to long beams of light refracting through the curtains and onto her bed. She knew she’d closed the blinds last night, which meant that someone else was awake and that, considering she’d met these people recently, she should also wake up. She reached out blindly with one hand and hit Naga’s soft side.

The polar bear dog whined agreeably, burrowing her face into Korra’s stomach until Korra let herself curl back into the sheets.

This lasted about ten seconds because suddenly a cold hard lump hit her square in the face. “Wake up!” Mako’s voice barked.

She reached up, lifted the object off her nose, and blinked her eyes open. It was her day pack. Apparently he’d been going through her stuff -- not that there was much stuff to go through.

She groaned at its implications. “Sleep, first. Doing things, later.” she rolled over onto her stomach, clutching the pillow to her face with both hands.

“You should be a poet,” he grumbled, but she could hear his footsteps thudding away. 

Unfortunately, by this time she’d been sentient long enough to figure out she wasn’t falling back to sleep. She sat up, throwing the pillow at the far wall, with a particularly petty thump, and glanced around the now illuminated room.

Mako was on his side of the room counting money. Bolin was desperately trying to stuff something long, red, and furry back into his bag.

“What is that?” she asked.

“Uhm. I didn’t wanna tell you cause he’s not registered with the hotel, but--”

Naga let out a long, low growl, just as the thing Bolin was handling sprung out of his hands and raced up onto his shoulders -- finally coming to a rest in a curled position around his neck.

“He’s a fire ferret,” Bolin said, scratching at the thing’s chin. “His name’s Pabu.”

Korra’s eyes widened and she felt her lips curl into a grin. “Aw. I’ve never seen one before. He’s-” She was interrupted by Naga’s sharp bark. “Naga, no. Friend, not food.” she turned back to Bolin. “Did you spring the idea on Mako yet?”

“Yeah.” he got nervous suddenly, scratching at the back of his neck. “There’s a bar that does wrestling and has a pro bending night as well. That’s the closest thing I could find.”

Korra perked up immediately. “Bolin! That’s awesome. It sounds like a job to me.”

“Not if Mako’s not on board.”

Korra turned to look hard in Mako’s direction. “Mako. You’re on board, right?”

He had his face turned down into a pile of papers, eyes narrowed and lips chronically pouting. He looked up when he heard his name though. “Have you ever competed in a pro-bending ring?”

“No, but I’ve trained at water bending for years.”

He shook his head. “It’s not the same thing.”

“I listen to games on radio. I know the rules. And it’s not like you have a lot of other options, asshole.”

His pout turned into a glare. “Fine. If the two of you want to get beat up for money. I won’t hold you back.”

Bolin tackled his brother, knocking him back a few steps. “Have I ever told you you’re the coolest brother in the world? Because you’re so cool. And Korra’s so cool. And I’m so cool!” he grinned. “This is gonna be awesome.”

-

It was less than awesome. 

The first few weeks were hell. Mako woke them up at five every morning and worked them until her muscles started spasming. They were at each other’s throats constantly too, which drove Korra crazy because she liked Mako. He was kind in this really quiet kind of way. He was a bit of an asshole, but she was too, so she could deal with that. He took care of his brother to the point of fault. And he worked himself harder than he worked either of them. Sometimes when they weren’t snapping at each other, she thought he was even a person she could confide in and put her problems on. But most of the time he was just an ass. 

Those weeks were terrible, painful. She went to bed every night sore all over, and woke up the next morning feeling like death. But she had never been happier. They found this big emptylot where they could practice bending in the evening and in the morning. During the day, they toured the city’s bars and booked themselves solid on every competition night.

It was a weekend when the problem finally showed its face. Korra had just finished punching out some girl in a ring and she was glowing. She changed out of her sweaty gear, left the back room, and was immediately greeted by Bolin as he threw his arms around her and lifted her a good three inches off the floor.

“That was amazing!”

“Sloppy,” Mako said out of habit. He was smiling at her as he added, “But efficient.”

They were all tired, sore, and sweaty, but they went to the lot to practice anyway. It was in a quiet, relatively safe neighborhood -- not too uppity, but not trashy enough to get mugged on the way there. Apparently, it used to be a park. Years ago, the city had replaced the grass and dirt with concrete in the process of building a new set of apartments. Fees had added up, the project had been abandoned, and now all that was left of it was a well-lit chunk of cement that was perfect for their purpose.

As they neared the lot, Korra and Bolin were chattering excitedly about the match. Mako joined in as usual with stilted criticisms. All of them silenced when they heard unexpectedly loud voices from up ahead. Moments later, they were all drowned out by the roar of a satomobile engine.

Their group exchanged doubtful, but determinedly curious expressions, and they kept walking as one. An edge of danger hounded their heels.

The end of the alley, which normally widened into an expanse of perfectly empty darkness, now yielded to a small crowd of onlookers. Most of them looked to be young adults -- early thirties -- but some were older with greying, jet-black hair that blended in well with the smoke-glazed night sky. There were a few teenagers, but the younger members looked uncertain about their presence and hung notably away from the crowd, coddling the sidelines.

Korra, Bolin, and Mako, crept out of the alley. There didn’t seem to be any worry of these people noticing them or caring. Everyone’s eyes were glued to the lot in front of them. Korra followed their gaze.

Usually it was completely black, except for the dim, flickering street lights. But tonight was an exception. Lights had been set out consecutively around the lot, forming a wide loop of illumination, and harsh headlights cut through any remaining shadows.

Korra took it all in: the hum of accelerating vehicles, the taste of gasoline on the biting wind, and the overwhelming smell of violence. It was electric. Contagious. 

She couldn’t look away. 

The cars chased each other across the makeshift track. Each lap passed by in a blink, yet still managed to elicit jeers and shouts from the crowd. Even Bolin cried out once when one of the cars took a turn too fast and nearly skidded off the track. This wasn’t the commercial racing Korra had heard about and seen pictures of. It wasn’t racing that involved prep or teams of helpers. It was dangerous and messy. It was about the drivers and the thrill of the chase. Everything else was just an afterthought. Life outside of this moment felt far away -- suddenly unimportant. 

The ending ripped Korra back to reality. One of the satomobiles, a sleek and elegant beast of a vehicle, took the lead. It accelerated into the last lap like a drowning man searching for air. It beat the other around each corner, checking bumpers whenever they got close, and it crossed the finish line with a vicious purr.

Cheers erupted. Money was exchanged. Korra watched a man throw his fist into the wall a few feet away from her, while the woman he was with cackled. She was holding out a hand expectantly for payment when he looked back at her.

Korra turned to Mako and Bolin, who were both behind her. Somehow she’d moved closer to the track without thinking.

Bolin was grinning like a maniac and Mako was full on glowering. She hadn’t seen him this angry in weeks.

Korra cleared her throat. “So…”

“That’s an end to our pro-bending career,” Mako said.

Korra faltered. “What?”

“We have nowhere to practice.”

Bolin’s smile vanished. “Wait, no. Mako, that’s not--” he glanced at Korra, eyes pleading. “We’ll find a way.”

Korra rounded on Mako, suddenly angry, because who gave him the right to call everything off at the first sign of conflict? But he wasn’t looking at her when she opened her mouth to chew him out.

She followed his gaze back to the track, where the driver of the winning satomobile was exiting her vehicle. One boot hit the concrete, then the other. Korra’s eyes darted up the length of her body, feeling something warm and unexpected tugging at her throat.

“Asami!” someone yelled. A girl, with perky brown curls and a smattering of freckles was bouncing up to the driver. She was one of the younger wallflowers in the audience who Korra had noticed mostly because of the dichotomy of her appearance and her clothing. Her jacket was bulky and leather, probably made for a man, but her face was all rosy cheeks and innocence.

It took Korra a second to process that the girl was speaking to the driver and what that meant. Memories poked at her mind, begging her to pay attention to them. Images of Asami’s black dress and muddy kneecaps, a fight that ended in giggles. Attaching those events to this girl seemed unfathomable.

She had changed so much -- her shoulders wider, hair longer and impossibly shinier. She tossed it over her shoulder as she turned to greet her fans and Korra was forced to look away.

When she did, she looked to Mako and found him just as distracted. She snapped her fingers in front of his face, making him blink and when he met her eyes, she noticed there was red edging his cheeks.

He swallowed, visibly.

It was Bolin who broke the dismal silence though. “Hey, hey. We can still bend here. This is the first time we’ve seen something like this. It’s probably once a week or something. As long as we figure out the times that this is going on, we can avoid it.”

There were already more cars revving up on the track and Korra could hear new bets being made. She clenched her hands into fists and grit her teeth. “You know what? No. This is illegal. What we were doing wasn’t. We shouldn’t be the ones adapting. I’m gonna talk to them.” and she started marching through the crowd, pushing people out of her way as she went.

She could hear Bolin’s desperate pleas and Mako’s shouts behind her, but she ignored both of them.

Asami was taking her cuts of bets, and signing autographs. She looked completely relaxed and completely in her element, as she lazed against the side of her car. Her legs were crossed, her smile crooked, and with the streetlights shining around them, her skin took on a kind of luminescence. 

Korra inserted herself a few feet away, crossed her arms, and glared at the man Asami was speaking to, until he said goodbye rather hurriedly and stumbled back into the crowd. “What--” Asami started when she noticed Korra.

“Ms. Sato, correct?” Korra held out a hand. Asami’s smile was gone. She looked confused as she lifted her gloved hand to take Korra’s, but the girl from before stepped between them and Asami dropped it. 

“It’s time for the announcement,” the girl stage-whispered and Asami nodded. 

Her smile was back, but it looked wide and fake. “Hey, everyone! Could I have your attention for a moment.” Asami’s voice wasn’t particularly loud, but it was pitched in such a way that the crowd instantly silenced around them. “I have some good news,” she began. “I plan on purchasing this lot and transforming it into a real track. It’s going to take a bit of construction so we won’t be able to race here for a few weeks, but once it’s done, it’ll be ours.”

Whoops and cheers erupted around them, accompanied by stilted applause. 

That was their answer, then. Korra glanced back at Mako and Bolin, who for once wore matching expressions.

Asami was done with her speech and she was looking at Korra imperiously, but Korra couldn’t meet her gaze.

They left through the alleyway as a huddle. She dragged her feet the entire walk back to the hotel.

-

It started raining that night and didn’t stop. When she woke, it was to the crashing sound of water from the drainpipe hitting concrete. 

Mako was looking through job catalogues again -- the coward -- and Bolin was slurping noodles with Pabu wrapped around his neck like a scarf. Korra pried herself from the mattress, letting out a loud yawn.

“You’re late,” Mako said as he flipped a page.

“For what?” she said. Her voice was still cracking with sleep and she could smell her own morning breath.

When Mako just stared at her, she tried to think back through what she could possibly be ‘late’ for at this hour. When it came to her, she let out an embarrassing squeak. “Shit. Shit.” she jumped out of bed, grabbed her go-bag, and was slamming the door a second later, putting her shoes on while she walked.

The man at the front desk of the hotel gave her a long, hard look as she ran through the lobby still in her pajamas with Naga trailing behind her. “It’s raining out there, you know.”

She shot him a glare. “Thanks for the update.”

By the time she made it to the pub, she was soaked through. The bouncers, hunky earthbenders who she usually avoided if she could help it, almost didn’t let her in. She flashed them her best smile, begged a little, and a second later they were shrugging and opening the door. She planned on showering them in gratitude, but was prevented when a more inebriated group swept past her towards the door. One of them was singing along with the live music in an ear-breaking tenor. The aforementioned live music didn’t have lyrics.

Korra glanced back out the door only once to make sure Naga was staying put. She made eye contact with the polar bear dog, gave an enthusiastic smile that Naga didn’t return, then darted into a changing room.

One-on-one pro bending matches were frowned upon for a number of reasons. The matches were quick and dirty. They were more about getting to the other person’s targets first than holding your ground. At first Korra had been completely enamoured with the idea. No distracting competitors, no distracting teammates, just her and her opponent trying to knock each other out of the ring. 

Now that she was more used to bending with Mako and Bolin, she found herself looking for them on days like this. After the last match, she’d looked to her left, grinning, about to give Bolin a hug until she realized he wasn’t there.

She sighed, schooling her thoughts back to the present. Being unfocused before a match could mean the difference between an even fight and a slaughter. She pulled off her pajamas and quickly changed into her gear, pulling the fabric roughly over her skin. She could see red marks where it rubbed off a layer. 

Her eyes met with her own in the mirror. “Game face, Korra.”

She marched out of the room, parting the sea of people before her. Some of them looked at her with recognition and excitement, even as she shoved to get past them. 

The ring was illuminated in shades of white in the center of the pub. Petyr, the man who shoved money into her hands after matches, was pacing the length of it. Each line in his angular face was lit by the stage lights, making him look washed out if not for his make up. His smile was wide and jeering. “Ladies, gentlemen, get ready for our first show of the morning and oh, is it gonna be a big one! Watertribe girl, new to Republic city, with a buck to earn and talent to make it, give her a big welcome folks or she might rough you up a bit!”

Korra darted up the steps and into the ring, squinting against the bright lights. It was a shabby ring, nothing like how the professional ones looked. It had been thrown together as a last-effort money making scheme by the owner of the bar. He’d been in debt before he did it. Luckily for him there were plenty of people in this city who would pay to get drunk too early and watch benders knock each other out. 

Again, Korra loved this city. 

She greeted the audience as she always did, wearing a cocky smirk that she didn’t actually feel. She blew kisses to the crowd, even as anxiety bubbled in her stomach and when Petyr announced the next competitor, she couldn’t hear his words over the cheers.

A woman, who Korra recognized from other matches as “Salasi: Queen of Waves”, walked into the ring. She had slightly darker skin than Korra’s and her curly hair was pulled into a tight knot out of her face. Her expression was dead. Korra had come to learn that there were two types of people who entered this ring. The people like her, who came to put on a show, earn a living, and leave feeling like they’d proved themselves. Then there were the others, the ones who didn’t care about the paycheck or the crowd, or anything except making their opponent hurt. Judging by this woman’s expensive gear, she was the second kind. She didn’t come to matches as a job. She came to them as an escape from whatever hell she dealt with outside of sweaty bars.

Petyr counted them off. 3. 2. 1…

Water whipped, seemingly out of nowhere, slashing through the air like a sword. Korra dodged, and when the water hit the ground where she used to be, she thrust her hands, forming a wave between them. 

Salasi feinted to the right and when Korra went for her, leapt to the left. The first blow was dealt a second later, while Korra was still recalibrating and Salasi blew back the entire wave on her.

Korra stumbled backwards, foot slipping over the line.

The whistle blew. Salasi advanced.

The entire first round progressed like that. Korra’s movements became progressively less composed the more agitated she got. Yet, her opponent remained completely unaffected. Her face stayed perpetually apathetic, not a hair out of place.

Korra’s sheer resilience was usually what let her win against more experienced competitors. But, something about the way Salasi took each blow in stride, made Korra fume. It was a penalty that got her in the end. In the heat of the moment, she used ice to slip Salasi up, then skidded her back across three lines.

The whistle was blown. Korra took another strike -- this time, one she couldn’t afford. She knew she looked frightening as she left the ring, but when people scrambled out of her way it just made it easier for her to cut through the crowd.

Naga was waiting for her outside under the awning, and greeted her with an excited bark. Korra ran a hand through the dog’s wet fur. “You smell awful.”

Naga licked her hot face. “I know. I do too.” she sighed. “Let’s just get back. Does that sound good?”

Except, somehow, the rain had gotten worse since this morning. The sky was filled with thunder, and despite the hot air, the rain was cold. She could prevent the worst of it, by bending the water out of her face, but somehow she still got drenched. It came down in sheets, plastering Korra’s hair over her eyes until all she could see were smears of yellow headlights from the satomobiles rushing past around them. 

One nearly hit them, skidding to a halt inches from Naga’s snout and letting out a long blow of the horn.

Korra urged Naga to the sidewalk after that, where they huddled together under an awning. Korra bended the moisture from her clothing and Naga’s fur, but they still ended up with water dripping down their legs, forming a puddle. 

After that, they waited. The storm was too bad to walk in, but there was no place aside from the hotel Korra felt welcome. She was reminded suddenly of her second trip to Republic City and how helpless she’d felt when that man had found them outside the museum. She felt a similar kind of helplessness now, cowering under the awning with Naga’s body wrapped tightly around her. She shivered bodily. Naga must have felt the motion because a second later, a warm tongue was lapping against her cheek. She laughed and took a deep breath. They were fine. She wasn’t a kid anymore and Naga wasn’t a puppy. They might not be the most dangerous things in this city, but they could tangle with the best of them.

Korra wasn’t sure how long they sat there, waiting out the storm. She couldn’t see the sun through the dark, billowing clouds above, so it was hard to keep track of time. It was a pair of identical headlights, cutting through the rain, that got her attention. The satomobile pulled to a stop a few feet away from where Naga and Korra were tangled together. The engine was still purring when its door opened and continued even as a set of shiny black boots clapped onto the concrete.

Korra’s eyes darted anxiously up the figure’s body as they stepped closer. Two more steps and she was off the ground, slamming the person back with a wave of rainwater.

Asami let out a moan. “I think you ruined my best jacket.”

“Oh, shit!” Korra’s eyes were disks, and then she was laughing. “I’m sorry!”

“Yeah. You sound it. I’m assuming that’s not how you usually greet people?”

“I didn’t see your face. I thought you were… I don’t know.” Korra scratched the back of her head, awkwardly. It felt like every time they met, she somehow made a worse impression of herself. How could one person make her feel so clumsy and uncoordinated? “Wait, why were you here? Are you--”

Asami put up her hands. “I pulled over because it looked like you were giving yourself hypothermia, not because I was looking for a fight.” she let out a sigh and glanced down at her soaked front. Korra felt ever-so-slightly guilty. When she looked back up and saw Korra’s expression, she rolled her eyes. “Just get in the car. You look like you could use a break.”

Korra didn’t pretend to consider. She gestured to Naga who Asami glanced at, but didn’t comment on, and soon enough the two of them were crammed into the backseat of the satomobile. Asami eased the car off the sidewalk and back into traffic. Korra clung to Naga and to every other possible thing she could hold onto as they drove. It wasn’t that Asami was a bad driver. Korra figured, watching, that Asami was actually quite good. But the way she drove made Korra breathe in sharply and promptly forget to breathe out. She cut around cars, leaned into corners, and every time there was an opportunity to go fast, she was slipping over the pavement, racing to each light. Every time they turned, it was with a quick tug of the steering wheel, and when Korra let out a startled gasp, Asami glanced over her shoulder. Her lips were quirked into a smile. 

It was only when they skidded to a stop that Korra realized she’d never given Asami an address. “Where-”

“I took you to my house. I figure you can stay here until the storm clears up.” she said it lightly, but not in a way that gave Korra much room for protest. Naga followed them out of the car. Knowing that Asami’s back seat would smell like wet polar bear dog was some consolation.

The Sato manor was just as she remembered it. They weren’t great memories, but they still left her with a strange sense of loss. She wasn’t taken into the gardens or into the dining hall like last time. Asami led her to a small cramped room, with couches and a fireplace. It was comfortable in a forced kind of way -- not like a favorite old sweater, more like a doctor’s office. It felt clinically comfortable, with the abhorishly expensive wool blankets and plush carpeting.

Korra fell back on the couch and spread her arms out over the head of it. She wiggled her toes inside her boots. “Huh. This place doesn’t feel like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Asami asked. She mocked offense, but her tone sounded more curious than accusatory.

Korra shrugged. “Well, did you pick the furniture?”

“No. My dad did.”

“Then that’s what it means.”

Asami seemed to think on this for a second and while she did, Korra held out her hands towards the fire to warm up. Then Asami said, “You’re a water bender, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to bend the water out of my clothing where you splashed me?”

“No,” Korra said, and then she grinned for some reason, and Asami grinned back. She felt quite stupid about it, sitting there in this essential palace, with a girl that should probably hate her, but for some reason didn’t.

A while passed like that and Korra found herself forgetting quite everything. She forgot about about the storm, forgot about street racing and work and crippling debt. They just talked, in that same way they had talked years ago at the memorial. Asami told her about her father’s fear. She described the self-defense classes she went to and the curfews she broke. All things that Asami talked about seemed to dance around the subject of her mother’s death, never quite touching.

Korra talked about non-essential things that suddenly seemed essential. She wanted Asami to know all of the food she missed from home, all of her favorite water tribe ghost stories, and how she’d gotten Naga. 

No time seemed to pass at all, but when Korra glanced at the fire again, it had reduced to coals in the grate. Asami asked suddenly, “The other night, after you saw me street racing, what were you going to ask?”

This was what finally reminded Korra why she shouldn’t be here. She had no idea how she’d let herself forget in the first place. She went rigid in her seat, hands clenching. “Oh yes, the lot that you’re buying.”

Asami looked perplexed which only worked to further Korra’s frustration.

She shut her eyes for a second, counted to five, then said, “Look, I don’t have anything except pro-bending,” she explained. “My team and I used that lot to practice. If you use it for street racing, then--” 

Asami’s brow furrowed. “It’s the only place big enough in the city for racing. I can’t just stop. It affects other people as well.”

“What about the literal racetrack you have in your backyard? Is that too small or something?”

“No-- that’s. My dad--”

Korra stood up, shaking with barely-contained anger. “Oh, look,” she said, pointing at the window without looking. “I think the rain let up. Naga?”

Naga, who had been sleeping on the couch, looked up blearily when she heard her name. 

“Korra, no. Wait,” Asami said. “You have to understand. I need that property.”

“Why? So you can pretend you’re not just another snobby rich girl?” Korra snapped, hating the words even as they left her mouth. “Wake the fuck up.” then she was stomping out the door, Naga fast on her heels.

Asami didn’t call after her again.


End file.
